Shattered Glass
by Priestess of Groove
Summary: Trevor gets into trouble once more and, this time, it's Harvey who pays the consequences.  Donna takes care of Harvey.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **Good day, fellow readers. =) Since there are so many fics of Mike getting hurt, I thought I'd provide the fics where Harvey gets hurt. This takes place, naturally, right before Trevor leaves. Mike's relationship with Harvey and Donna isn't quite as cohesive as it is by the season finale, so I made it a little rough around the edges.

Now, this was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but it turned into a 25-page one-shot. O.o It also did not quite flow as a one-shot, so I have broken up the story into 5 separate parts and I will post them over the next 5 days. Expect evening updates. There will be another update Tuesday evening. _No Rest for the Wicked_ will get an installment soon!

**I do not own Suits. **

**Shattered Glass**

**Chapter 1  
><strong>

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Trevor?"

Mike was eying the bar uncertainly as he stood waiting by the taxi. Trevor paid the drive – his treat after all – and gave Mike an excited grin.

"What's the matter, bud? It's just a bar."

"I'm just getting this overwhelming sense of déjà vu. I mean, the last time we were at a bar – " And here Mike gave Trevor a pointed look " – you had some guys that sounded like they were from the Russian Mafia after you," he said, his mouth set in a concerned frown and he glanced at Trevor with one eyebrow raised. "You don't need anymore trouble."

"Don't worry about it, bro. I've learned my lesson. I won't get into anymore trouble. Besides, I'll be on the bus heading for Montana tomorrow," Trevor said, throwing a comforting arm around Mike's shoulders. He could see Mike's trepidation start to fall away and a slow smile was now lightening his dark mood.

"All right, but remember, Trevor, you may be leaving but if you get up to anything then…._I'll_ have to deal with the fallout," Mike said, pointing a finger into Trevor's chest. A grimace pinched his face as he spoke the last sentence and he was pleased to see Trevor turn serious. Harvey's name hung in the air between them, to fill the pause Mike had left.

"Yeah, trust me, buddy, I don't want you to get on the wrong side of your boss on my behalf either," Trevor replied.

Mike relaxed at that and smiled at Trevor, satisfied that there would be no trouble tonight. And to make sure of it, he would limit their stay to just a couple of drinks. It was a 'school night' after all and neither one could really afford to get smashed. On first appearance it appeared to be an innocent enough bar – neatly kept and the occupants were staying seated in their chairs even as they chattered up and laughed Thirsty Thursday away – it was certainly not half as well to do as some of the ritzy bars Harvey was sure to attend, but the crowd here was hardly full of piss poor alcoholics.

Trevor slapped down a twenty on the counter and said to the bald bartender, "Two shots of bourbon please."

The young lawyer sighed heavily. "Already starting off heavy? This is the only one for both of us. Neither one of us needs a hangover tomorrow."

"Speak for yourself," Trevor replied. His eyes rolled up into his head as he threw the shot back. He cringed at the burn in his throat, but then he grinned and nudged Mike's elbow. "Don't make me take that from you. C'mon, Mike, you're a grown up now. Drink the grown-up drinks."

Mike just gave him an exasperated look and drained the shot even faster than Trevor. He bent over coughing at the burn and rough feel of the liquor in his throat.

"All right," Mike said, once he found his voice, "that's enough for me. Michelob Ultra, please."

Trevor huffed and muttered, "Already going for the pansy ass beer. Man, live a little. He asked for another shot from the bar tender and downed it the moment it reached his hand.

"Hey, I can almost guarantee you that I'll be spending tomorrow reading briefs or doing research for a case. Try doing that with a hangover."

"Okay, I'll stop badgering you. I just, ya know, wanna have some fun. This is going to be our last night to party. I may never see you again," Trevor said. He gave Mike such an adorably affectionate look that Mike could feel his anger at Trevor's wrongdoings ease a little more.

Mike took another swig of his beer to cover his own emotions, and he said, "Don't be ridiculous, man. Of course we'll see each other again. Just make sure that there isn't a set of prison bars between us."

"Are you saying you wouldn't use your lawyer skills to get me out?" Trevor asked. He summoned the bar for yet _another_ shot and drank it as quickly as the others.

"I guess it all depends on what you're in for," Mike replied, but he felt an uncomfortable twinge in his stomach at the thought. He had no doubt Harvey would counsel letting his friend rot in prison.

"Hey, I gotta piss. I'll be back," Trevor said and slid off the stool at the bar. He grinned at a very beautiful black girl with curly hair and Mike rolled his eyes as he heard him say, "Hi, beautiful."

He shook his head in exasperation that his friend could not resist flirting even when he was ten hours from boarding the greyhound bus. However, as he waited for Trevor to return and continued nursing the same beer, he could not help but notice that some of the bar's patrons were starting to give him cross looks and most of them happened to be black men. There was the odd two white men with blonde hair who threw him dark looks and Mike unconsciously hunched his shoulders. _Oh shit, is this bar in gang territory? _So this part of town wasn't that great, but it was still a sight safer than even the part of town where Mike lived and he often had to bike to from work at night. However, as he waited for Trevor to come back, an unsettling feeling settled in the pit of his stomach and he could not keep a shudder from running up his spine. Somehow he knew this night was not going to end well.

Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, Mike called the one person he felt might be able to help them.

When Mike called, Harvey happened to be lying on his bed reading. Ever one to follow the culture of the rich, he felt it might be prudent to be familiar with as many of the classics of literature as he could think of. He could drop quotes in conversation when he was at dinner with a client but, and most importantly, it would be a great way to say lines that in all likelihood would fly right over Mike's head and help keep that godly aura around him that he so carefully cultivated.

Shakespeare's collection had been the first for him to tackle, which had also been made easier by virtue of it being every high school's favorite literature to shove in their students' faces. He still held fond memories of _Hamlet_ at least and he had, within the past two years, gained a greater understanding of _Macbeth_ after his horrible effort to read it in his sophomore year at high school. He didn't even touch _Romeo and Juliet_, writing it off as teenage garbage with the emotional capacity of a fly and because he had already read it. He still was not quite sure how Violet could have passed for a man through the entirety of _Twelfth Night_ and still surprise everybody at the end, including her own brother. He had read the play at least three times to understand even just half of it and felt he probably put in more effort than most of his rich clients would ever bother and called it good.

Just two months prior he had decided to tackle the Greek classics and was more than a little perturbed as well as amused at all of the clever and creative ways that Greeks could think of to kill off the characters of myth. He had started with Aeschylus' _The Oresteia _and felt that it might quite possibly be the best of all the Greek plays – _Antigone_ fell right about in the same category as _Romeo and Juliet_; _Hippolytus_ was…odd, and _Ajax_ had only been okay in his humble opinion – until he read _The Bacchae_. He had enjoyed that particular play immensely because he had subconsciously substituted Donna into the role of Agave who led the wild women that would rip apart any man who got in their way. It sounded like something she might do.

After rolling through _The Iliad, The Odyssey_ he ran into a swamp of text that was Virgil's _The Aeneid_. When he had finally slogged through that he had decided to pick up some Faulkner at the recommendation of one of his older clients and _The Sound and the Fury_ was the book he was currently reading. But reading was probably stretching what he was actually doing. He didn't even know when he had started but his phone ringing brought him to the awareness that he had long lapsed into a coma and had been squinting at the text only an inch away from his eyes stuck on…he glanced down at the page number and groaned: 7. He snatched the phone off of his night stand – it had been a force of habit to put it there after he had missed an important client's call at 3 am and had been consequently fired from representing afterwards – glanced at the caller ID and said, "This had better be good, Mike."

"Were you asleep? It's only 9 o'clock."

"I swear, if you make an old man jokes right now, I will hang up and refuse to answer all subsequent phone calls," Harvey replied, really wishing he could banish the drowsiness from his eyes and voice.

"Okay, okay. I'm calling because…well…"

Harvey perked a little at the waves of guilt that washed out of the phone and he narrowed his eyes as he stared out the window in his room, "You're getting into trouble."

"No! Trevor wanted to go out for a last round of drinks."

Harvey squeezed his eyes shut and counted to ten forwards and backwards. "What did I tell you, kid? That friend of yours is not only trouble itself but a trouble _magnet_. Drop him like he's loose change."

"Do you even hear what you're saying? Besides, it was just a few drinks."

"It never is just a few drinks."

"Yeah, well, I've had a shot of bourbon and a beer so far. I have every intention of staying completely sober here. I'm calling because," and here Mike's voice dropped so low that Harvey could barely hear him, "the people at the bar are giving me…very unfriendly looks."

"Please tell me you're not in a bar in a bad neighborhood."

"I didn't think it was a bad neighborhood."

"It's New York. What neighborhood is good? If you're so worried, why don't you just leave? What do you need to call me for?" There was a pause and just when Harvey was certain Mike was about to answer, he said, "Wait, let me guess: you tried to talk him out of drinks altogether but because you have no backbone – "

"C'mon, Harvey!"

"Fine, because he just so happens to be your weak spot, you caved and because of your weak stance to him he cannot possibly see the reason to leave."

"You didn't have to put it quite like that," Mike said in a sullen tone.

"Listen, kid, I tell it like it is. And you didn't deny it."

"Fine. I'm calling you because he listens to you! If you came and made us leave, he would without a second thought. Please, just get down here. It's The Sandbar on 5th street."

"I know where you are. Try to at least get Trevor out the door in one piece and I'll pick you guys up."

He disconnected the call without hearing a reply and slid out of bed, glad that he had started reading in his jeans and t-shirt. Grabbing his phone and wallet, he looked at his keys for a moment and decided that if the bar was that hostile he would _not_ risk one of his beautiful cars taking any damage and then he reached into his closet for his leather jacket and ducked down to grab a particularly grubby pair of boots. If he was going to go to a middle class bar, he better damn well look it.

Even as much as he felt the stirrings of annoyance at Mike for continually hanging out with that loser he called a best friend, he couldn't help but feel grateful for the kid. He had saved him from reading anymore of that book for the night. Harvey couldn't help but throw the inanimate object a particularly violent glare, before he stepped out of his condo to go and save Mike and Trevor _again_.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed this! =D<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Here's the second installment! Thank you very much for the alerts and the feedback! Yes, I felt it was about time Harvey wound up in the hospital. ^^

**I do not own Suits.  
><strong>

**Chapter 2**

"Trevor, I really think we should go," Mike said, once his friend had reseated himself at the bar. He had not been quite quick enough before the bartender had handed his friend a rum and coke, heavy on the rum.

"What? We haven't even been here for more than an hour. Just one more drink," Trevor said and Mike couldn't help but be relieved that his friend managed to down half his drink in a single gulp.

"I don't think it's good to hang out here much longer. I don't feel especially…welcome," Mike said, glancing without turning his head at the four males at the table behind them who appeared to be invested in a game of poker, but he had noticed they kept on throwing him and Trevor suspicious glares.

"Relax, man. Jesus, that law firm turned you into a total tight ass. Why can't you just have some fun anymore?" Trevor said. Mike shuddered at the darkness and anger in Trevor's eyes – he had never been an especially pleasant drunk to deal with and, in some strange way, Mike had somehow knew that Trevor found Mike's new status at the law firm frustrating to deal with. There had been a few times in the last couple of days when Mike felt like his friend was talking down on him like he was a particularly clueless child.

"Trevor, c'mon," Mike prodded, but Trevor turned away to the beautiful black girl he had complimented from before.

"Hi there. Would you and your friend like a drink?" Trevor asked, smiling at the girl and a white brunette on her other said.

"No, I'm fine thanks and I'd like you to leave me alone," she said with a very forced smile that almost appeared to be a grimace to Mike.

"Please, it would be my treat," Trevor said, already reaching for his wallet and digging out another twenty. "What's your pleasure? A Cosmopolitan? A Bailey's?"

"Trevor, no!" He grabbed at his friends arm and tried to pull him away, but his friend only violently jerked his arm back.

At the same time, one of the blondes at the table rushed over and towered over Trevor, throwing a protective arm around the black girl. "What the hell do you think you're doing, talking to my girl?"

"What, does she have a collar with your name on it?" Trevor replied in a snarky manner, standing up to face the man.

Mike could practically feel his teeth chattering with fear as he rushed off his stool so fast he almost knocked it over and threw his arms around Trevor to bodily pull him away. At the same time, the other three men at the poker table got up and caged them from behind and the boyfriend swiped Trevor's rum and coke off the counter, shattering the glass on the floor.

"Hey," the bartender yelled, "You're gonna pay for that! Don't make me call the cops!"

But for all of his yelling, no one in their area appeared to have heard him as the four men continued to advance on them. Mike was almost sure he heard the other white man crack his knuckles.

Even as Mike was struggling to hold onto Trevor who slapped at his arms, he turned to the other men and said, "Please, please excuse my friend! He's an idiot when he's drunk. I'm sure you've seen the type. I promise you will have no more trouble from us tonight. Just let us out."

"Stop sounding like some pansy ass sissy, Mike, and help me," Trevor snarled at him, digging his fingernails painfully into Mike's arm.

"Will you shut the hell up? I'm trying to get us out of here alive," Mike screamed back. He finally let go of Trevor, but that was only to grab his jacket and shove his way through the wall of human that had formed around him and he pulled Trevor towards the exit, feeling like he was Moses parting the Red Sea as people fell back from them in horror to make a clear path to the exit.

Mike gulped in the crisp autumn air from outside and felt like he had passed outside the field of danger. He took the time to wipe the sweat from his forehead and then he turned to start on Trevor when he saw the four men had followed them closely. Mike only just managed to duck out of one of their hands and he grabbed a fistful of Trevor's jacket to pull him further from the entrance; his friend seemed to have become sobered by the cool air outside and he no longer fought Mike's grip. They needed to get a taxi fast, but he figured just pulling them both out of harm's reach was probably the first thing he should do.

Suddenly a taxi pulled up and out climbed Harvey Spector. It was a very different Harvey from what Mike had come to expect, stunned to find his mentor had not donned on his usual three-piece power suit ready to outsmart the villains this time, but instead was in a pair of jeans and a dark gray t-shirt and work boots not dissimilar from what Mike might wear in his free time. Only the sleek leather jacket hinted at the untold fortune this man had and, as per usual, he gave Mike a look that said, _What have you got yourself into this time? _In the next moment, Harvey had stepped around the pair to block their pursuers.

"Gentleman, what seems to be the problem here?" Harvey said smoothly as though he were trying to talk to a suicidal from stepping off the roof. He drew himself up so that all four men had to look up into his eyes. He prided himself on being able to decipher any truth from a man's face and the one truth he deciphered from all four of these men is that they were drunk on testosterone more than they were alcohol.

"That shithead hit on our women," the blonde man said; he clenched his jaw truculently and pointed a finger behind Harvey. The older lawyer didn't need to turn to know he was talking about Trevor and he silently thanked whatever God there was that his associate had enough sense to not get drunk enough to pursue attached women.

"It was probably just an honest mistake. Where were you?"

"We were at a table playing poker."

"So they appeared unattached? See? An honest mist – "

"He argued with us," the other blonde man spoke up from his friend's side.

Harvey sighed and closed his eyes, wishing quietly that he could manifest into St. Peter the day Trevor died so that he could banish him to the 9th Circle of Hell. "He's clearly had one too many drinks, gentleman. I'm sure your judgment has been stunted by alcohol too at one point. There's no need for this to esca – "

"Serves you assholes right! I think they enjoyed talking to me more th – " Mike's face had paled to the hue of a sheet of paper and he practically pounced on Trevor, clamping his hand over his mouth to get him to shut up.

Harvey turned toward Trevor with a murderous glare and was already balling his fist to punch the man's lights out and then a horrendous pain burst into his skull and all he could see was white.

"Harvey!"

Mike's scream sounded right next to his ear, but he could not see a thing as he clenched his teeth and clutched the back of his head. In the next instance, the pain lessoned enough for him to realize he'd pinched his eyes shut and somehow ended up on the ground, still clutching at the back of his head. His vision tilted wildly and he tried desperately to stay upright, even as he felt Mike grab his leather jacket, attempting to drag him into the door of the waiting cab.

In all the confusion and noise he could hear the distant wail of sirens and slowly allowed himself to be coaxed into the cab.

"Harvey? Harvey! Are you okay?" Mike came into focus next to him, his white pallor now virtually gray even in the dim light of the taxi.

"Will you quit yelling? I'm right next to you. I'm already feeling better. No need to worry," Harvey said. He could feel the blood roaring in his ears and he jerked away when he felt Mike touch his head, sending another wave of pain through it.

"You're bleeding."

When Mike held his hand up, Harvey was shocked to see it was entirely covered in blood. He glanced down at his own hands and saw they were also covered thickly with the sticky substance.

* * *

><p><strong>Once again, thank you for the faves, alerts, and the reviews! =D I will put the 3rd part up tomorrow.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Next installment is here! Enjoy! And once again thank you very much for your responses and alerts! I always enjoy seeing them. =)

Ah, yes, I just wanted to say that I have nothing more than a basic knowledge of head injuries so, please, don't mind any horribly false information.

****I do not own Suits.**  
><strong>

**Chapter 3**

"Take us to the nearest hospital," Mike commanded to the driver in a surprisingly strong and calm voice.

"Hey, is your boss going to be okay?" Trevor asked, apparently having completely sobered up by now.

"You bleed on my seat, you pay," the cab driver replied in a thick accent.

"Just take us there," Mike snapped, but Harvey could see he was under strain as he struggled to put pressure on the head wound in the tight confines of the cab. Undoubtedly he was wondering if his boss would die and, if he didn't, whether he would still have a job tomorrow at Pearson Hardman.

Harvey wouldn't deny that it was tempting to fire him right here and now. Instead, he said, "Mike, with your clean hand can you reach into my left pocket. My phone's in there."

"Who're you going to call?"

"Donna. She'd kill me if I didn't tell her I'm going to the hospital."

Mike eventually managed to fish it out and Harvey did his best to ignore the smears of blood he was leaving on the touch screen as he brought up her number on speed dial.

"A little late for a booty call, don't you think?"

"Donna, I'm on my way to the hospital."

"Wait, what? Oh my God, what did you do? Please don't tell me an angry husband caught you sleeping with his wife and shot you?"

"I make a point of not sleeping with married women for that reason," Harvey replied blandly. "It's also Thursday; those are my plans for tomorrow night. You're sidetracking me. I got hit with something in the back of the head trying to save Trevor and Mike." He threw the pair of them a nasty glare and successfully cowed Trevor. Mike was a little too busy putting pressure on Harvey's head.

"Okay, first off, Harvey, you don't need to yell," Donna replied to him.

"I'm not yelling."

"I don't think you realize how loud you're being. It must be the adrenaline. Second, I cannot believe you stepped in to help Mike, even after you warned him about that friend of his. You should have let him fight his own battles."

"But then I would have either a very dead associate or one in traction. Either way, I would have to hire a new one and we both hate that," Harvey said.

Donna sighed heavily but she said, "You're right; I would hate to go through all those applicants again. Anyway, good luck at the hospital. Let me know if anything comes up."

There was a stunned silence, but eventually Harvey's racing brain managed to connect the words to form a single meaning. "Wait a minute. You're not coming to see me?"

"It sounds like you've got everything under control there."

"I'm the patient and you've got the wonderful privilege of dictating my health care. You really want Mike stepping in for that in case I fall unconscious?"

She did not miss the pleading in Harvey's voice but decided not to comment on it, sensing that it was probably as a result of his head injury. She also decided not to point out that he had completely failed to realize that there was no way in hell she _would not_ be there. So instead, she said, "Oh, fine, you big baby. I'll be down there in twenty minutes."

"We're here," Mike said and he reached around Harvey to get the door to the cab and he pushed on Harvey to get out.

"We're at Mount Sinai," Harvey said, as he glanced up at the glaring hospital letters and turned off his phone. Mike was tugging insistently on his jacket until Harvey finally slapped his hand away. "Will you knock it off? I'm moving. And calm down before they have to admit you for a panic attack." Slowly and steadily, he climbed up the stairs to the entrance. He couldn't help but notice that Trevor lingered further behind them, with his head down and his hands shoved into his pockets. The perfect picture of contriteness.

Harvey briefly considered going ahead with his verbal castration right here, and then he decided he would deal with Trevor later when he felt the blood from his wound slide down his neck and under his shirt collar. Yes, needed to save his clothes from being stained with blood first.

Even though there appeared to be a surprising lack of patients in the waiting area, they were told to have a seat. When the receptionist had realized he was still bleeding, she gave them a pure white towel that Harvey almost felt bad for soiling when he snatched it up with his bloody fingers. He was not sure how long he sat there waiting for a doctor to see him, but he could see feel the fatigue from reading of _The Sound and the Fury _from earlier come crashing back on him. He did recall Donna showing up at some point in dark brown pants that he thought looked especially nice on her figure, but the conversation between her and Mike had floated completely over his head. But she took over tending to his wound and when she prodded him he forced himself to pay attention.

"Wow, you are out of it," Donna said, clicking her tongue at him. She applied more pressure and she felt him twinge from the pain. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Harvey replied. He turned his head to her as far as she would allow and he smiled at her. "Thanks for coming."

"It sounded like you needed a woman to run things," she replied and squeezed his arm affectionately.

"It's what I pay you to do," Harvey replied. "I kind of figured you wouldn't stand for another person to weasel in on your job."

"You've got a point there," Donna said and she took a moment to pull the towel back and look at his head, but she hastily reapplied the towel.

"How does it look back there?"

"I saw this great big jagged line just kind of oozing blood. You don't seem to be bleeding as much as you were, but it still hasn't stopped. I was half expecting to see you're skull shining through," she said and for the first time he saw the worry in her eyes.

"I feel fine. Contrary to popular belief, you don't actually get headaches when you get hit in the head. I don't feel any pain," Harvey said. When Donna applied more pressure he rephrased, "Okay, the wound is tender but my head is just fine."

"If you're head's not hurting, you don't have a concussion which I find incredible. Whoever hit you was not messing around. Did you see who it was?"

He stared at her with an incredulous look. "My back was to them. I didn't see anything."

"Just wondering if you could corroborate Mike, because he saw who hit you."

"I remember hearing police sirens before I was pulled into the taxi."

"They'll probably be here soon enough to take a statement from you. Were there a lot of people around?"

"Yeah, quite a few outside the bar."

"Then those guys have probably been arrested by now," Donna said, sounding very relieved.

"Mr. Specter?" A slightly pudgy man with a handsome face, brown goatee, and a white coat was standing a few feet from them and gave Harvey a wan smile. "I'm Dr. Phil Noble. Will you please follow me to exam room 2."

Harvey stiffly rose to his feet, silently cursing crappy hospital waiting chairs, and followed the doctor as advised. Donna was right next to him when she suddenly halted and he turned to see what had caught her attention.

"You're going to sit right there like a good boy and _wait_," Donna said to Mike who had apparently stood up to follow them. She gave Harvey a gentle push to keep going and he went on ahead, trusting Donna to handle the situation.

"But…"

"We don't need you in the room with us. You haven't quite earned the trust necessary to be privy to Harvey's examinations and after what happened tonight, I think it's pretty clear why," Donna said, her eyes flashing at the exasperated look on Mike's face. "You still have a ways to go, pup."

She turned to follow Harvey once she saw Mike seated again and quietly seethed about the person that was Mike Ross. She really hadn't known what Harvey was thinking when he hired the kid but, like a good friend and secretary, she had not questioned his decision. At least not publically. Harvey heard plenty about it in private, but overall he had maintained that Mike was valuable at least for his incredible memory and reading skills. But it was stunts like this that kept her from accepting Mike into the fold of their little group. Harvey was practically bending over backwards for the kid, not turning him in for the pot, not _firing_ him even after he broke their promise that he would not do drugs while he was working for Harvey, and now bailing him and his so called best friend out of two of their own manufactured messes. The kid only deserved so many chances and she was running out of patience with him.

Harvey, to his credit, was actually sitting on the exam table, quietly letting the doctor prod and poke his head, only flinching occasionally. He grinned at her when he saw her and said, "Put the kids in their place, honey?"

She sighed at his words, but she couldn't keep from returning his smile. "Yes, dear. They have instructions to stay precisely where they are or they're grounded for eternity," she replied, standing a few feet away and waiting while the doctor continued his examination.

There were a few more minutes of activity and she could see Harvey flinching a little bit more as the doctor scrubbed a little bit harder at his head. Finally the doctor ended his silence, "Sorry about that but overall, the wound is clear and clean and I do not foresee any future difficulties. I would advise getting an x-ray just to make sure that if there is a skull fraction then it isn't particularly large. It looks like you were hit with a blunt object: a large flashlight, a baseball bat, a nightstick. Something like that."

"That doesn't surprise me," Harvey said and then he raised an eyebrow at the doctor and gave him a questioning look. "I don't feel any pain unless you touch the wound. Is that normal?"

"Well," Dr. Noble considered his answer for a moment, "Yes and no. In contrast to the rest of your body, there are far fewer nerve endings on your head. So your lack of pain is to be expected, but that you have neither a concussion nor a larger skull fracture is surprising. You would be feeling a very bad headache if you had either a concussion, a bleed, or intracranial pressure on your skull. However, I do believe you should get an x-ray and then I will make a ruling on whether the MRI is truly necessary or not."

"Fine," Harvey said and slid off the exam table and gestured at the door. "Lead the way."

When Donna started to follow Harvey, the doctor turned to her and said, "I'm afraid only private personnel are allowed beyond these doors. Feel free to wait in the lobby or in the exam room if you're so inclined."

Donna glanced over at the contrite forms of Mike and Trevor and decided she would rather eat eel before she sat with them at the moment. She headed back into the exam room to wait on Harvey.

Mike had glanced up when the exam room door had opened, hoping that they could be out of here, but then he saw Harvey, still clutching the towel to his head, follow the doctor to parts unknown in the hospital. _Probably to get an x-ray_, he thought gloomily and hoped this didn't mean that Harvey had a serious injury. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he knew Harvey was going to be laid up in the hospital as a result of his stupidity.

"Mike, who is that woman?" Trevor asked him. When Mike glanced up at him, he nodded toward the exam room that Donna had disappeared into again.

"That's Donna. She's Harvey's secretary."

"She acts like she's his wife," Trevor said with a disbelieving look at Mike.

Mike snorted. "They are definitely not married. That's just the way they are."

"She looks like she's gearing up to lecture like us we're a pair of school kids who got caught fighting in the schoolyard," Trevor said with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head.

Mike stared at him in angry incredulity. "You act like we don't deserve it! My _boss_ could have a concussion or a fractured skull on my behalf. Hell, on _your_ behalf! How can you possibly act like _nothing_ is wrong? I could be fired!"

Trevor winced as if Mike's angry words could slice through him. "Hey, I'm sorry, man. I just wanted us to have a last fling. I mean, not all of them have turned out this bad. I can only think of two that could come close."

The young lawyer shook his head. "You know, evade the truth all you want, but I could lose my fucking career over this. Harvey is my one prayer and now it could be gone. Why do you _think_ Donna's looking at us like she's thinking of how best to serve our bodies?" Mike was staring hard into Trevor's face until his friend finally looked away. Oh, there was contriteness but Mike did not think it was especially sincere. Of course, Trevor wouldn't have to deal with the consequences of his screw ups. He didn't have anything _to_ lose.

Mike refused to speak any longer to Trevor and they sat in silence long after they saw Harvey reappear with the doctor. He didn't even glance at his associate before he went in and Mike felt his chances sink even further of ever being redeemed.

* * *

><p><strong>The 4th installment will be up tomorrow! Thank you for the feedback. =)<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Just one more installment to go after this! I hope you all have enjoyed this and thank you again for the feedback and the other alerts! It's fun to hear what you all think!

**I do not own Suits.  
><strong>

**Chapter 4**

"So? You're skull intact?" Donna asked, not bothering to get up as he settled himself back on the exam room table.

Harvey shrugged, but Dr. Noble nodded at her. "No fractions that I could see. I also saw nothing that suggested severe trauma to the brain, so I have advised against the MRI." The doctor pulled away the towel on Harvey's head. "Most of the bleeding appears to have stopped. I'll go and get a surgical stapler and then you can be on your way. Excuse me." He turned to leave and just before going through the door, he turned and asked, "Are you interested in filing a police report?"

"Yes."

"Then you should probably take some photos before we patch you up."

"I brought my camera," Donna said, pulling it out of her purse with all of the flair of a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Harvey appeared no less impressed.

Once the door had closed, Harvey slid off the exam table and bowed over it for Donna and she held up her camera.

"Now, don't try to take advantage of me," Harvey said to her with a faint smile.

For just a moment she considered either stepping on his foot or kneeing him in the groin, but then decided that he had been dealt enough pain tonight and she wrestled her natural instincts. "Are you trying to tell me you like dominatrix?"

Donna saw him shudder just as the shutter clicked and she couldn't keep a grin from her face. "Whoa, stay where you are," she said, staying him with a hand at the base of his neck, "Your hair's too damn dark."

"Well, you'll have to take that up with my mom."

"It's a shame really," Donna said with a dismayed click of her tongue, "She could have married a ginger and then you'd have red hair."

"Okay, red hair looks good on you, but there's no way in hell it would look good on me. I quite like my dark chocolate brown hair."

"Dark chocolate? I was thinking more of rotted oak tree brown."

"You're so cruel to me. I would never call your hair color carrot vomit. Ow!"

"Sorry, my elbow slipped," Donna said, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

"Oh yes, right into my ribs. How convenient."

"All right, I've got the shots," she said.

Once he had jumped back onto the exam table, beckoned her over until she stood right next to him and then he unashamedly put his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes. After a moment he said, "I think this has quite possibly been the most pleasant hospital experience I've ever had."

She sighed in exasperation but threw an arm around his back. "Harvey, I hate to say it, but you look like you've aged ten years in the last two hours."

"You were always good at patching up my wounded self-esteem," he replied with a smile. But it vanished in the next instance and he said, "My head may feel okay, but I do wish I had never stepped out of my condo for the rest of the night. Even if it means reading _The Sound and the Fury_. I'm only on page seven and I think I already hate that book."

Donna giggled and said, "Well then, you know better than to loan it to me. I am still trying to get through _The Oresteia_. I must say _Agamemnon_ is quite poetic, even if the meaning gets a little sticky at times."

"It's all about translation," Harvey replied. There was a few more seconds of silence when he spoke up again, "Don't be too hard on him, Donna. I mean, these things come with getting a new puppy. You have to put up with their shit before you can consider them properly trained. He'll get there. Eventually."

"I find it hard to believe that you're the one sitting here bleeding out of your head and you're trying to talk me out of castrating both of those boys," Donna said and she did not bother to hide the bitterness in her voice. No one hurt her friend, intentionally or inadvertently, without getting either a biting lecture or pistol whipped with a stapler.

"Considering how many important people Mike has lost in his life, I think it's quite clear why he has a tendency to stay latched onto his friends, even if he would be better off befriending the hobo that hangs around his apartment. He'll either learn to let go, Trevor will miraculously become a better friend, or, what seems most likely, Trevor will betray him in such a spectacular fashion that he will have no choice but to cut ties with him," Harvey said. He opened his eyes to look at Donna. "Mike's situation does remind me that I am very lucky to have you."

"I'll always have your back, Harvey," Donna said with a pleased smile.

"And don't you dare forget that you can call me for anything," he said in turn, giving her a severe frown. "If you're in trouble, call me."

Donna opened her mouth to answer, but at that moment, the doctor returned and Harvey sat up once again. "Would you please lie down. It will be easier this way," he said. "I have to give you local anesthesia around the wound sight to do the stapling."

"All right, get on with it. I don't want this to take any longer than it needs to," Harvey said with more than a little bite of impatience.

As it was at a dentists' office, it took a few minutes before he felt a detached numbness in his head, but with it came a strange sensation of lightheadedness that was very difficult to describe. Harvey asked, "Does vertigo usually occur with the local anesthesia?" His eyes felt like they were rolling in their sockets so he pinched them shut with a groan.

"Yes, about half of our patients describe such a sensation," Dr. Noble replied and he took his spot right at the foot the exam table.

Harvey could just barely feel the gentle prodding and sensation of the doctor's fingers, but he was more pleased that he was completely numbed to the hard punches he felt at the back of his head. Then what felt like a few seconds later he jerked to awareness as the doctor snapped the gloves off of his hands and said, "We're all done. I used nine staples." Harvey leveraged himself up to a sitting position and blinked as though he were trying to wake up. "You feel okay?"

He glanced around the room as though he was orienting himself and Donna gave him a puzzled look with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah, I'm fine." He started reaching to the back of his head where the staples were, but he stopped before he could touch it and winced. "The staples feel a little…tight." His head hadn't hurt before, but, even with residual anesthesia, he could feel the pull.

"That's to be expected. You may feel discomfort back there for a week or so while your body heals. I recommend you make an appointment either with your own doctor, with me, or with a doctor here at the hospital for a check-up in the next month. It will determine when your staples may be removed." When Harvey frowned at him he went on to say, "Head wounds are slow to heal. It may even be as long as two months before you get them out."

The lawyer gave him a pained look and put his forehead in his hands. _Damn, it better not ache like this the entire time. I'm not sure I could stand it,_ he thought and rubbed at his eyes. He sat up again and asked, "All right, so am I free to go?"

"You're free to go. But one more thing," Dr. Noble said as he pulled on his leather jacket and Donna stood up from the chair. Harvey looked back at him. "You're not allowed to wash your hair for two weeks. You could irritate the wound or pull the staples while they heal."

Harvey thought that might have been the worst news he had heard since Jessica had threatened to partner him up on a case with Louis. He gaped at the doctor. "Wh-what?" He stammered, trying to make sense of it. But…I can't go without washing my hair."

"You have to this time. It's doctor's orders," Dr. Noble replied as he gathered up the surgical stapler.

"But – !"

"Harvey, you're not going to die from not washing your hair," Donna replied as she laid what would have been a comforting hand on his shoulder if not for the tight grip.

"I can't talk to clients while I have greasy hair. That would be disgusting," Harvey said, staring at her as if she had turned into medusa.

"God forbid you take a week off for vacation! It's not like you've ever had one," Donna said, as she pulled open the door and stepped out in the corridor.

"I have too had a vacation! That weekend at that spa in Cambridge," he replied.

"You were wining and dining a client. That doesn't count. Honestly, when was the last time you did something for yourself?"

"Every weekend?"

Donna wrinkled her nose at him. "Jesus, Harvey, you're a bore. Now I don't have to wonder why you can't keep a woman."

"I've taken a few personal days."

"But never five days at once," she pointed out saucily, finally coming a standstill in front of Trevor and Mike. "I'd say it's high time you enjoyed life a little."

"I am quite happy with my life, thank you," he said with a little more bite than was likely necessary, but she only continued to stare at him with that annoyingly superior air she carried when she was trying to win her way. And he caved, as was usual with them.

"Excuse me, sir?" All four of them glanced over at the front desk where two police officers were standing. "Are you the one who asked to file a police report?"

Harvey straightened from his previous slump and he snapped his mask back on, his expression now his hardened neutral, but there was a furious fire in his eyes. "Yes."

"Very well, we need to ask you a few questions and then we'll take an account of what happened."

He answered the usual garbage the police asked, providing all of his contact information and then, as would any good lawyer, he clearly and concisely told them precisely what happened. Next, Mike and Trevor were asked for their statements, and then they called Dr. Noble back for his professional opinion and medical information. During the proceedings, at one point, Trevor had started to walk away, slowly and quietly so as not to attract attention, but Harvey stopped in mid-sentence to level such a frosty glare at him that he froze like a deer in headlights. In two steps he was back standing next to Mike, or at least slightly behind his friend. Harvey was, at the very least, pleased to see Mike was giving Trevor a severe case of the silent treatment and some displeased glowering. It meant that Mike was not making any excuses for his sorry excuse for a friend and perhaps _this_ time, Trevor might actually learn that his stupid actions had very real consequences, which included being abandoned by the people he relied on most.

Harvey recognized in Trevor what Mike was only just beginning to see. Trevor used Mike as a doormat. Much like all of the other associates at Pearson Hardman who never ceased giving Mike hell, Trevor manipulated and used his friend for his own ends and only occasionally displayed the façade of a true best friend. By far, though, Trevor was much more subtle about his abuse of Mike's trust than the associates and Harvey desperately wanted to convince Mike of what kind of toxin Trevor was. Harvey knew perfectly well what a best friend was and it irked him that Trevor could just walk beside Mike in a mere imitation of it.

By far, though, what was most irksome was that Mike, in all the years of his still young life, had no idea what a best friend was either.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you so much for the reviews! You guys are great. =)<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **I apologize, first and foremost, for being a little late with the update, but I made the final chapter about twice as long as it was. Enjoy! Thank you, everyone, for reading and reviewing! This was a lot of fun to write!

**I do not own Suits.  
><strong>

**Chapter 5**

Once the police report was taken care of, Harvey had to again check at the counter and get the bill for his emergency room visit, and then they finally filed out of the hospital doors. Harvey had looked at the bill before they had gone out into the darkened street and when he reached the edge of the street he rounded on Trevor. "This is the second time I've saved your ass and this is the second time I could have died as a result of it. I oughta make you pay my medical bill," he said, the lawyer edge back in his voice and he stepped up so close to Trevor that their toes were almost touching. "But I won't because I know you don't have even two pennies to rub together. You'd go broke just trying to pay back what you owe Mike, I'm sure."

There was a long and agonizing silence as Harvey towered over Trevor, making the kid shrink down even further to avoid his accusing glare. Finally he said, "Now, I expect Mike to escort you home and if something happens between your apartment and your bus ride, you better pray for God to save you because I _won't_."

Sensing his dismissal, Trevor shuffled further off down the street to a waiting cab and got in. Harvey then rounded on Mike. "Now, I am not going to charge you for my bill because you have nicer suits to buy and not so skinny ties." To the young lawyers credit, he smiled wanly at their inside joke, but not even Harvey was feeling the humor. "The odds are high I will not be in tomorrow, but I will sleep on it. If I'm not, I'm sure you know where to find work." Mike grimaced but he nodded dejectedly, taking his punishment without complaint.

Harvey turned to get into another cab when Mike spoke up almost too quietly to be heard, "For what it's worth, I am really sorry about what happened to you tonight. But I swear, I _will_ make it up to you. If you let me." The older lawyer could hear the determination in his voice, but his downcast face only seemed to speak of despair and dejection, as though he felt condemned to never being in his boss' good graces.

"Mike, the best way you can pay me back is to keep working as you have: getting your work into me on time and doing it well. As long as you do that, you will get back into my good graces."

At that very moment, a leaden wait seemed to lift from Mike's shoulders and the kid couldn't keep the irrepressible and charming smile off of his face. Harvey had to fight not to smile back as he still felt the kid deserved a little bit of the cold shoulder for the crap he would have to put up with as a result of his head injury.

He was just about ready to get in, when a thought struck him and he called out to Mike, who had started towards the cab that was waiting rather impatiently, "Mike, I thought I should forewarn you. I cannot wash my hair for two weeks, which means that I will be taking the week after next off. I'm sure you know what that means."

Mike groaned aloud but then he smiled as if he were resigned to his fate of being Louis' bitch for the week and he said, "Thanks for warning me."

Harvey finally ducked into the cab and Donna slid in after him. Once Harvey gave the driver the address of his condo, he turned to his assistant and said, "Damn. I get into a bar fight without even having the pleasure of being drunk."

"Aw, don't worry, Harvey, I'm sure there's some girl out there who will admire your new battle scar," Donna said. She patted him patronizingly on the head, taking great care to avoid the staples.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "What do you think she'll be doing to find it? Grooming me like a chimpanzee?"

"I never know with you," she replied with a mocking sigh.

He snorted and then yawned, feeling the events of the evening start to catch up with him. "Think I should have called Jessica?"

"Possibly. You can tell her tomorrow when you don't show up for work."

Harvey opened his eyes enough to slide them over to her, "Aren't you going to tell her? That's what I pay you for."

"No, dear, you pay me to manage your life. I am _not _being paid to stand between you and your boss. Besides, it's not like I'll be at work tomorrow either if you're taking a personal day."

"Why aren't you going?"

"Hmm…I think it's because when my boss does not show up, I tend not to have anything to do. And if you think I didn't finish filing those papers that you slapped on my desk fifteen minutes before I was to go home…" Here she gave him a mischievous look. "Then you don't know me half as well as you think you do."

"Mmm…that's right. You're Wonder Woman in a dress and red hair," he thought and a not entirely unpleasant picture of Donna wielding a whip entered his mind.

She scowled at him. "You better not being undressing me in there."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied. The glare on her face had slightly sobered him as he _then_ imagined what she'd do to him for such thoughts. He was half tempted to try and cover his groin in as subtle a way as possible, but she would notice.

"At least don't think of me as a Wonder Woman. Do you have any idea how many times she got tied up with her own lasso? I could beat her ass."

Harvey could not keep from laughing.

The cab slowed to a stop and Harvey pulled open his door to get out. He turned back to Donna to say something, only to find she had also climbed out and he immediately followed and stared at her over the car. "What are you doing? I was going to pay your way home!"

She shot him a cross look. "Do you really think I'm going to leave you alone with a head wound that could be serious?"

"But the doc – "

"_Said_ there is nothing wrong, but he also didn't get an MRI. If you lapse into a coma or suffer a heart attack, I want to be here to make sure you get the proper help," Donna said in a tone of finality and she raised her chin up in a haughty manner.

Harvey only sighed and paid the fare. He followed her into his own building and he used his key to get into his private elevator. "Thank you for coming out. I didn't think it would be a good idea to chat up Mike in the exam room when I was so pissed at him."

"Yes, that might have been a bit much," she replied, but the staunch frown on her face said she had still not quite forgiven Mike for the incident tonight. "I still can't believe you didn't fire him. You better be right, Harvey."

He gave her his characteristic smirking grin and asked, "When am I not?"

When they reached his floor he, like a gentleman, waved her on through first and once he stepped into his condo after her, he set his jacket on the back of a kitchen chair and then immediately began taking off his gray shirt even as he walked up the stairs to his bedroom.

"What class, Harvey. And here I was thinking I was supposed to get the special treatment."

He didn't even glance at her as he held his t-shirt out in front of himself and replied, "Nothing you haven't seen before. God damn it! I did get blood on my shirt! I liked this shirt."

"It's probably not enough to ruin it. Let me see."

Harvey handed it over to her with a pained expression and then he turned to dig through his dresser drawer for an undershirt that he often wore to bed. She examined the stain as he did this, rubbing it with her finger to find that the blood still came away and then she couldn't keep from giggling in knowing. He glanced at her from where he crouched over his dresser drawer, holding in one hand a stack of clothes.

"So?" He asked.

"This will be easy. Do you have any Hydrogen Peroxide?"

"Under my bathroom sink," he replied. When she started over to it he said, "Hey." She turned to him and he threw her one of his Harvard t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants that he knew she liked. She caught it with the deftness of a goalkeeper and then shut the door to his bathroom. He stripped out of his jeans quickly and pulled on the pair of sleep pants. He waited for Donna in the kitchen where he made the both of them BLTs. He did not bother waiting for her before he dug into his sandwich, only turning from it when he heard the door to his bathroom finally open and she came out dressed in the clothes he had given to her. She sauntered down into the kitchen with a smug smirk and held his shirt like it were a precious object, but once she was close enough she balled it up and threw it at him. She was almost disappointed when he snatched it up before it could hit him in the face and then he unfurled it and closely examined the collar.

The collar was soaking wet with water, but as he closely examined the fabric, his eyes widened and he slowly admitted to himself that she had, in fact, gotten the stain out of his shirt. She beamed at him as he turned to her with his jaw dropped in amazement, before he finally closed it and nodded. "Yep, I knew it. Wonder Woman."

She gave him a cross look. "_Not_ Wonder Woman. I am Donna."

"Right. Goddess Donna," he amended and bowed his head in servility.

"I must say, I like the ring of that," she replied and then glanced down at the half-eaten sandwich left on his plate. "It's midnight and you made yourself a sandwich. This is the time for M&Ms and Oreos, you weirdo."

He had turned back to his stove to put her sandwich on and he said over his shoulder, "I was hungry and neither of those are filling." She had gone over to dig through his pantry to see if he actually carried any junk food and gave a noise of disgust when all she found were a few cans of soup, dried spaghetti, a couple of pasta mixes, Ritz crackers and Salsa chips. "Upper cabinet to the left of the sink," he said to her.

She pulled out a bag of Dark Chocolate M&Ms and shook her head as she opened the new bag, "You _hide_ the candy from yourself. You're far too healthy!"

Harvey gave her a strange look after he put her sandwich on a plate and handed it to her. "I never imagined I'd ever be called too healthy, least of all by you and all of your salads you have for lunch."

"It's only for show. I have the worst addiction to Oreos and milk," she said with a lamentable sigh. There was a few minutes of silence as they quietly ate their food, but Harvey kept looking over at Donna who stared at him with narrowed eyes and as he continued to look at her he noticed a growing smile on her face.

"Should I be frightened?" He asked.

"I have an idea for you," she replied, putting down the second half of her sandwich so that she could steeple her fingers under her chin like a Bond villain.

"And that would be?"

"You were bitching and moaning about how greasy your hair will be. I'm assuming part of that is because you take your showers in the morning, which means you haven't had the opportunity to wash out the gel that you put in it. And then there's the blood that's still in your hair from earlier."

"Are you trying to tell me how disgusting my pillow will look by the end of the night? Because it's working."

"I will wash your hair," Donna continued without interruption.

"In exchange for?"

"Nothing. You need your hair washed, so I will do it for you and I will be careful. Just get your towel, the shampoo, and anything else you need and come back here. My only stipulation is that you clean up whatever mess I make."

"This deal sounds far too good to be true."

"Either take it or leave it, but I would not recommend washing your hair yourself," she replied.

He groaned and said, "All right, all right. Let me get everything." She knew perfectly well that Harvey couldn't stand the thought of being less than perfectly groomed and there was no denying that he needed to wash it out of his hair. He returned with the light blue towel from his shower down and his shampoo and set it down next to his basin and then he bowed his head. "All right, have your way with me."

Donna stared at him with a half amused, half stunned expression on her face, and then she reached up and pulled him down by the sink. "Have you been waiting to say that for the last twelve years? Honestly!" She could hear him laughing and abruptly cut it off by turning on the water.

"Ah! That's cold!"

"I thought you needed a cold shower."

"You're not half as funny as you think you are."

"That's the kind of comeback you make when you have none. I win this round."

"Hmph!"

She waited until the water had warmed before she pulled the sink sprayer and thoroughly doused his hair, feeling his shoulders slump as he leaned over the sink. He did jump, however, as she sprayed more directly on the wound and she threw an arm around his shoulders to keep him down. "Sorry."

"It doesn't hurt," Harvey said to her.

Donna just grabbed the shampoo and lathered up his hair, focusing her work particularly around the wound. She wrinkled her eyes at the thick clots of dried blood and she worked diligently to clean what she could. Harvey flinched underneath her, but she only gripped his head tighter, and she said, "Will you stop squirming? This was a good idea because you've got a lot of dried blood stuck in your hair."

"You don't have to scalp me!"

"Well, you'll feel better about not staining your pillow with blood. I don't think even my amazing powers could get that bloodstain out. I'm almost done!" As per her word, Harvey felt the spray on the back of his neck just two minutes later and then she finally turned off the water and threw the towel over his head. "You hair is clean," she declared and she had her arms up as if she were declaring a touchdown.

"Finally," he said and then he smiled lightly. "Thanks, Donna. I really did need my hair washed."

"You are now no longer allowed to whine," she said, pointing a finger in his face.

"Oh, so that was the price?"

"It is almost one in the morning now. I am _going_ to bed and if you dare to wake me up during my beauty sleep, be prepared to fear for your life," she said and headed off to the couch.

"Well, if you're going to get the appropriate beauty sleep, you better have blankets and pillows," he said. He pulled open his linen closet hidden in a hallway and pulled out a few blankets and then he went to his bedroom and pulled the second pillow off and headed back to the living room to dump the bundle onto the couch.

"Thank you, Harvey."

"You're welcome, Donna," he replied and started heading back to his bedroom when he stopped just between the living room and the bedroom. He turned toward her with a wicked grin on his face that she did not like. "You know, I wasn't going to go to work but now you've removed my only obstac – "

Donna reached for the first thing available to her and threw the coaster that she found between her fingers, hitting him square in the mouth.

"Ooops. I think I see a bruise on your chin. Can't meet clients with a face like that."

Harvey rubbed his chin and scowled at her.

**The End**


End file.
